by K. M. Walton
“Sorry. Right. Dumb question. Really dumb question.” She put her hands on her lap and kept talking. “The accident just—”
Scarlett snapped her mouth shut and dropped her chin. I didn’t press her. Actually I didn’t have to, especially not when it came to the accident.
That accident changed everything.
She took a huge breath, and then with puffy cheeks, slowly let it all out. “Yeah, soooooo, after my dad’s viewing, the funeral guy came in and said, ‘Take all the time you need.’ I remember thinking that if I could have as long as I wanted, then I wanted forever because the thought of never seeing his face again made my heart hurt. Like, it actually ached, which probably wasn’t possible, but it felt so real. And I remember my mom saying to Francine, ‘We’re gonna be okay. We still have love. Right? Your father was the love of my life. What a gift. What an absolute gift.’ Do you think—”
A boom of thunder cut Scarlett off and we both startled.
I looked out the window. “Holy…”
“What?” she shouted. “What?”
“The ocean. Look.” I pointed. “It’s coming across the street. Holy crap.”
She stood up and went to the front door. “This is bad, Billy.”
I took my place beside her and grabbed her hand. “I know.”
“Am I the love of your life? Do you really love me? Like you said on the beach?”
I tightened my grasp. “Do you really have to ask that?”
She shrugged.
“That’s like asking me if I believe the sun will rise or if the tide will come in or, or, or, like, God, I don’t know, asking me if I like hot chocolate. How can you doubt it? It has always been you, Scarlett. Always.” She was all that I ever needed. Ever.
“I know.”
SCARLETT
If I knew, then what the hell was I so afraid of? What exactly? Kissing him didn’t make me disappear. I was still there. Just me.
Billy Whitford loved me. I guess he had always loved me. Love for me wasn’t so simple. Love had ways of tricking me, pulling the rug out, punching me in the gut.
Not Billy. My sweet Billy.
He was real and there and he loved me.
“Let’s go finish our hot chocolate. I’ll warm it up for us.” He led me back into the kitchen. I was too jumpy to sit down so I stood next to him as he heated the mugs in the microwave. He held out the can of whipped cream. “More?”
I nodded. I didn’t care that I was having too much, because there was no reason to stop now. I let him fill the mug with white. He handed me a fresh spoon and I dug in. “Isn’t it so good?” I asked.
“Perfect.”
We stood shoulder to shoulder, sipping and staring out the kitchen window above the sink. He had a single palm tree in his front yard. It had been through many storms, and I had never seen it bend like that. “Do you think it’ll break?”
“Never.”
“Do you think I ruined everything?”
Billy placed his mug on the counter, took mine and sat it next to his. He stood himself in front of me with no space between us. “No.” Everything was touching except our mouths. “I want to kiss you this time, Scarlett. May I kiss you?” He rested his hands on my hips.
“Y-yes,” I mumbled. I didn’t care if things were ruined. What did that matter anymore?
The heat from his body melted us together, a blazing mass of want. “May I kiss you here?” He lightly kissed my cheek. “How about here?” His lips brushed mine as he turned and pecked my other cheek. We locked eyes and the room exploded with thunder. Neither of us was fazed this time. Maybe the explosion came from us.
He tilted his head and warm, tender kisses went from ear to collarbone. I arched my back to press all of me into him. He ran his hand up my side and rested his fiery palm on my neck. Pulling back to look in my eyes, he said, “Now, Scarlett. I need to kiss you now.”
The scent of chocolate and coconut was overwhelming. Soothing. Effective.
I searched his eyes and saw everything. There were no more questions.
“Yes?” he pleaded.
“Yes.”
“I love you, Scarlett.” Billy leaned in and touched his lips to mine.
Another thunderous crash shook the world. All the lights went out, plunging us into darkness.
I laughed and hugged him tight.
We stood in his dark kitchen and devoured each other. Every inch. Every single inch, until our knees buckled, until our eyes were heavy, until the end.
Eventually, he led me to the front porch. Waves broke against the top step. The thickly clouded sky was gunmetal gray.
Billy looked out and took my hand. “Even after our car accident, your dad and I never doubted you’d find your way. We knew you’d move on.” He turned to face me. “Remember our first day here? And how all we wanted was to go back? Remember how much we fought being here?”
Why did I ever doubt loving Billy?
I nodded. “God, did we want to be alive again or what?” I rested my head on his shoulder. “Crazy thing is I’m going to miss this place. It’s almost like home, isn’t it?”
“Almost.”
The ocean was now up onto the porch. It was as warm as melted butter on my feet. I wiggled my toes. “That fuse in heaven? I think we finally blew it. I’m not afraid anymore.”
He smiled. “I can tell.” Suddenly, Billy’s wings opened wide. I didn’t gasp or pull back. Everything clicked into place.
Everything.
I thought I’d seen his wings once, twice maybe. I was never sure. It was hard to tell here. But they were real. And they were beautiful—downy, light-gray feathers.
Billy squeezed my hand. “You ready to move on now? Your dad is waiting for us.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I am ready, but can I say goodbye to my mom and Francine?”
“Sure.”
I closed my eyes and put myself back down there, back in my real house.
Back in the place I was last alive.
There I was, just like that, standing in the corner of my kitchen, unnoticed. I guess the dead were undetectable. Francine and my mom were having dinner. The windows were covered in night. God, I missed night.
Francine’s hearty laugh filled the room. Then my mom joined in. I rested my head against the wall and listened. They were going to be okay. My stomach dropped as I blew them a kiss. “I love you, Mom. I love you, Francine.”
The room went silent.
Francine turned around and looked right through me. “Did you hear something, Mom?”
Mom’s eyes went wide. “Maybe.”
“Dad? Scarlett?” Francine whispered to the empty corner where I stood.
“Oh, F-Frannie,” my mom whimpered.
“I swear I feel like one of them is here right now, Mom. Do you feel it? Tell me you can feel it,” Francine said, never taking her eyes off of where I stood.
Mom reached for Francine’s hand across the table, and my sister’s gaze snapped to her. “I think it’s Scarlett, Mom. I don’t know why but I do.”
Their tears started in unison as they nodded. I didn’t want to freak them out any more. They’d been through enough. The accident. Losing me and dad and Billy in one horrible instant. “I’m all right. I love you guys. Goodbye,” I mouthed.
I blew them another kiss, closed my eyes, and heavy tears rolled down. I was back on Billy’s porch. The storm was gone, just gone. Golden sunlight streamed from all directions and the ocean was where it should be—across the street.
Billy pulled me in for a hug. He knew going back among the living was harder than dying. He knew because he’d done it too. “Are you okay?”
I nuzzled into his chest and tried to release the weight of sadness still clinging to my skin. With each breath I felt lighter and lighter until it vanished.
He lifted my chin and kissed my forehead.
“I think you were right,” I said, grinning, “We are doomed to love each other.”
“I hope so.”
ALL THE LIGHTS WENT OUT
© 1999 MARCY PLAYGROUND
She came in from stormy weather
And asked her friend to be there with her
When she slid down Cupid’s bow
Oh lookin’ fine that day
I had a dream that we were lovers
I had a joke and she would smile when I’d say
We could blow
Blow a fuse in heaven
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Well today
All the lights went out in heaven
Yeah today
All the lights went out in heaven
And I knew that she was all
All that I needed
Yeah, yeah,
Cause today
All the lights went out in heaven
Yeah today
All the lights went out in heaven
And I knew that we were doomed
Doomed to love each other
Author photo
© Serge Nikolich Photography
K. M. Walton loves when art—especially reading and music—makes her deeply feel something. So, it’s no surprise her contemporary YA novels Cracked, Empty, and Ultimatum have been known to make readers feel. Hatred is the one feeling that baffles her, and she’s so passionate about acceptance that she gives school presentations titled: “The Power of Human Kindness.” As a former educator, she also coauthored Teaching Numeracy: 9 Critical Habits to Ignite Mathematical Thinking for mathematics teachers in grades K–8. K. M. lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, two sons, and cat. Visit kmwalton.com and follow her on Twitter @kmwalton1.
PLAYLIST
1 “THE SUBURBS”
By Arcade Fire
Inspired David Arnold’s short story “Suburbiana (or, the Return of Super Frog)”
2 “MISS ATOMIC BOMB”
By the Killers
Inspired Anthony Breznican’s short story “Miss Atomic Bomb”
3 “COLD BEVERAGE”
By G. Love
Inspired G. Love’s personal essay “‘Cold Beverage’: The Song I Wrote That Changed My Life”
4 “HOTEL CALIFORNIA”
By the Eagles
Inspired Ellen Hopkins’s short story “Tiffany Twisted”
5 “PLANTING TREES”
By James Howe and Mark Davis
Inspired James Howe’s personal essay “How Miracles Begin”
6 “SOMEWHERE (THERE’S A PLACE FOR US)”
Music by Leonard Bernstein; lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Inspired Beth Kephart’s personal essay “The Opposite of Ordinary”
7 “WONDERWALL”
By Oasis
Inspired Elisa Ludwig’s short story “About You Now”
8 “BALLAD OF A THIN MAN”
By Bob Dylan
Inspired Jonathan Maberry’s personal essay “You Know Something’s Happening Here (But You Don’t Know What It Is)”
9 “OCTOBER SONG”
By Amy Winehouse
Inspired Donn Thompson Morelli, a.k.a. DONN T’s, short story “Time to Soar”
10 “SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW”
By Keane
Inspired by E. C. Myers’s short story “City Girl”
11 “IT HURTS”
By 2NE1
Inspired Ellen Oh’s short story “Second Chances”
12 “DANCING NANCIES”
By Dave Matthews Band
Inspired Tiffany Schmidt’s short story “Anyone Other Than Me”
13 “THE MIDDLE”
By Jimmy Eat World
Inspired Suzanne Young’s short story “The Ride”
14 “ALL THE LIGHTS WENT OUT”
By Marcy Playground
Inspired K. M. Walton’s short story “Doomed?”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
FROM K. M. WALTON
Thank you to David Arnold, Anthony Breznican, G. Love, Ellen Hopkins, James Howe, Beth Kephart, Elisa Ludwig, Jonathan Maberry, Donn T, Eugene Myers, Ellen Oh, Tiffany Schmidt, Suzanne Young, and Ameriie for enthusiastically agreeing to participate in this anthology. Thank you for your stellar contributions and hard work. Working with such a fine group of talented people has been an honor.
Thank you to John Wozniak, lead singer of Marcy Playground, for making this fan an even bigger fan.
Thank you to my agent, Jim McCarthy, for loving the idea for this anthology, helping me cultivate it and bring it to life, and then selling it!
Thank you to the amazing Sourcebooks team for everything: Annette Pollert-Morgan, Alex Yeadon, Cassie Gutman, Jillian Rahn, Sarah Kasman, Kate Prosswimmer, and Stefani Sloma.
Thank you for reading!
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